


lights out

by willowcabins



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, Library Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a pwp to help us all recover from Myka's heart-broken face during 4x15. (Dedicated to Chloe)</p>
            </blockquote>





	lights out

lights out

It’s nearly midnight: Myka slips off the couch, finishing the poetry collection with a snap as she closes the book. Helena smiles at her as she gets up to put the book away. “I curse myself for never having met Emily Dickinson, you know,” she tells Myka, putting down her own book as she watches Myka disappear in the shelves. Myka chuckles.

“She _was_ on a different continent,” Myka points out. Helena grins as she gets up, stretching her stiff limbs.

“I know, but still. I feel like I missed out…” Myka reappears at the opening between two shelves and smiles. There’s a moment, a single moment, where the soft light of the reading lamps by the table captures Myka’s face perfectly and Helena can’t breathe. She gets up, unfolding herself from the chair and approaches Myka slowly.

“Geography and history are fickle,” Myka agrees, watching Helena without moving.

“And yet they brought us together,” Helena points out.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Myka agrees, her face neutral and her voice guarded.

“What do you think the universe wants us to do with this proximity?” Helena leans on the back of the couch. The library is small, so she’s close to Myka, but she simply holds eye contact.

“Proximity?” Myka asks, eyebrow quirking up, though her eyes are flicking down to Helena’s lips. Helena smiles.

“Are we not close enough yet?” It’s an invitation, open and aloud for the first time, though present since the first time they met. There’s a moment, a moment that seems to last for hours, in which Myka makes up her mind. She steps into Helena’s space, her right leg between Helena’s. She’s already taller than Helena, but Helena is sitting on the back of the couch, making her even shorter.

Her hair falls over her right shoulder and tickles Helena’s cheek as she looks up. “I don’t know,” Myka murmurs as her fingers trace Helena’s cheek. Her thumb traces Helena’s lips, and Helena kisses the pad softly. Myka swallows, arousal heating her veins. She glances at the door, considering the possibility of someone coming in, but then realizes how ridiculous that idea is.

This library is hers and Helena’s, and theirs alone. No one has ever tried to come in. Myka bends down and replaces her thumb with her mouth, ghosting a light chase kiss on her lips. Helena tilts her head up, her eyes fluttering closed as Myka’s fingers tangle at the base of Helena’s skull and her thumb traces Helena’s perfect cheekbones. Helena smiles and her eyes open to Myka carefully tracing her face.

“What are you doing?” She whispers. Myka smiles.

“Remembering you,” Myka murmurs in reply.

“Oh you’ll have time for that later,” Helena assures Myka, lifting herself up slightly from the couch so she can catch Myka’s lips with her own. Myka smiles and parts her lips on Helena’s insistent tongue, sighing into the natural kiss.  Her hands slide into Helena’s hair and cradling her head as Helena’s arms snake around her waist and pull her closer, opening her mouth more in to the hot kiss.

They break apart, breathing heavily, and Myka grins, leaning her forehead against Helena’s. Helena hums in appreciations, her eyes not leaving Myka’s lips. “Close enough?” Myka asks. Helena’s eyes don’t shift from her lips.

“Not quite,” she whispers, and the predatory note in her voice makes the heat in Myka’s groin sink lower as Helena stands, reconnecting their lips as her hands stop tracing circles on Myka’s back, and instead start to unbutton her blouse. “Too many clothes,” Helena explains and Myka whimpers in appreciation as Helena pushes the blue blouse off her shoulders, leaving it as a blue pile on the floor and pushes Myka against the shelf she was leaning on mere seconds ago.

Myka sags against the bookshelf, allowing Helena and the bookcase to take most her weight as Helena undoes her bra clasp and begins her pilgrimage down Myka’s body, beginning with feather light kisses along her jaw, small nips on her throat that make Myka whimper and rock her hips into Helena’s thigh. Helena grins against Myka’s neck and nips her again, allowing from a breathy, pleading whisper of “Helena” to escape Myka’s lips. Helena grins, but decides to continue down Myka’s lithe form. She slowly explores Myka’s neck as Myka tilts her head, allowing Helena better access. Helena follows the line of Myka’s body, a perfect piece of art, to her breasts, her nipples already perk and hard. Helena captures one in her mouth and Myka moans in appreciation, her hips bucking again. Helena looks up at her with a grin.

“Shush, we’re in the _library,_ ” she whispers. The cold breath of her words over Myka’s wet flesh makes the secret service agent swallow in frustration. She looks down at Helena and can’t help but smile.

“You’re being mean,” she whispers back. Helena straightens up with an offended huff.

“I am not,” she assures Myka before Myka captures her lips in a hungry kiss again, biting down lightly on Helena’s lower lips.

“You’re mean and dressed,” Myka repeats, fumbling with Helena’s top. She breaks off the kiss to pull it over Helena’s head, before she pulls the other woman closer again.

“Around now I would prefer a bed,” Helena admits as she starts fumbling with Myka’s jeans, “but since the only ones available are upstairs we’ll have to wait.”

“Or be more creative,” Myka agrees as Helena hitches up her leg so she’s resting on Helena’s hip, her weight balanced between the bookshelf and Helena.

“Creativity? I can do that,” Helena assures Myka with a grin as she slips her hand under the waistband of Myka’s tight jeans, though still over her underwear. Even through the soft cotton she can feel Myka’s wetness as Myka’s hips push into hers and the secret service agent whines in protest.

“What are you doing?” She demands, the force of the demand completely nullified as she sags into the bookshelf as Helena’s hand begins to apply pressure.

“Improving our proximity,” Helena whispers, rolling her own hips into Myka’s, making the taller woman hiss.

“You’re not doing it very well,” Myka hisses back as Helena increases the speed of her hips, their pressure amplified by her hand in Myka’s tight jeans,

“Do you want me closer?” Helena offers, grinning at Myka’s frustration As the secret agent’s nails dig into Helena’s back. The pain is not a discouraging factor and Helena just grins.

“If it pleases you,” Myka breathes sarcastically, the sting of her words lost as she can’t keep her eyes from Helena’s lips. The British time traveler leans in, pinning Myka between the bookcase and herself so she can whisper in her ear, the hotness of her breath inducing a shiver from Myka that seems to shimmer through her whole body.

“You please me,” Helena replies, her whisper nearly lost as Myka inhales sharply as Helena finally complies with her request, pushing her pants aside so her fingers can gain access to Myka.

Helena continues to roll her hips in rhythm with her hands as she pushes Myka higher and higher. Helena likes Myka this way: sweating slightly; very much at Helena’s mercy. Helena pushes her hips and speeds up the rhythm of her hand, aligning it poetically with the speed of Myka’s breathing as Myka gasps and tilts her head to the side. Helena nips at the naked skin on Myka’s neck and is rewarded with a groan and a shiver that encourages Helena. Selecting a new area of skin, Helena sucks a love bite into existence as Myka comes around her fingers, whispering a prayer consisting only of Helena’s name.

Myka clings to Helena as Helena extracts her hand from the tight grip that is Myka’s jeans. “Don’t go yet,” she whispers, eyes closed still out of breath. Helena pushes her forehead against Myka’s: the closeness forces Myka to open her eyes.

“I’m staying with you,” Helena assures Myka, their lips mere centimeters apart. “I was just hoping we could do this in the comfort of your bed.” Myka closes the gaps between them and steals a kiss, her lips ghosting over Helena’s, pulling back as Helena tries to deepen the kiss.

“I’m happy to exercise my revenge from my bed,” Myka assures Helena, pushing the time traveler back so she can collect her clothes on the floor. She leaves the bra off, but quickly buttons up the blouse and grins at Helena’s stunned expression. “Come,” she whispers with a grin.

Helena picks up her t-shirt and follows Myka, pleased to see that her love bite is blossoming on Myka’s neck.

 

 

 

 


End file.
